


Transformation

by fandomonymous



Category: Football RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomonymous/pseuds/fandomonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six memories of Pia Lahm. Written as a companion/continuation of <a href="http://5thofficial.livejournal.com/33299.html">Application of the Scientific Method</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transformation

**Title:** Transformation  
 **Pairing:** Philipp Lahm/various (Andreas Ottl, Timo Hildebrand, Claudia Lahm)  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Word Count:** 5,500  
 **Summary:** Six memories of Pia Lahm. Written as a companion/continuation of [Application of the Scientific Method](http://5thofficial.livejournal.com/33299.html).  
 **Author** [](http://fandomonymous.livejournal.com/profile)[**fandomonymous**](http://fandomonymous.livejournal.com/)  
 **Mixer:** [](http://wh-mermaid.livejournal.com/profile)[**wh_mermaid**](http://wh-mermaid.livejournal.com/)

[](http://s1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff493/luxover3/f_b%20albums/?action=view&current=cover-3.jpg) [](http://s1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff493/luxover3/f_b%20albums/?action=view&current=tracklist.jpg)

[Download Mix Here](http://www.mediafire.com/?r288xrvb3jcdne6)

**A/N:** Much thanks and love to [](http://wh-mermaid.livejournal.com/profile)[**wh_mermaid**](http://wh-mermaid.livejournal.com/) for the excellent mix and beta and general encouragement, to [](http://zanoranna.livejournal.com/profile)[**zanoranna**](http://zanoranna.livejournal.com/) for being the awesome and fierce Bastian to my silly and worrying Philipp, and to Adam, without whom this wouldn't be possible.

 

***********

One: Beauty

Philipp always knew a few things about himself.

Firstly, that he would play football as long as his body would let him. A football pitch was the one place where the world made sense - no complications, just get the ball away from the opponent, down the field, and towards a teammate who would then lead it into the goal. Nothing else seemed simpler, nothing else seemed more perfect.

Secondly, that at his core, he was Bavarian. He was proud to be from a place so beautiful, so filled with history and culture. He loved that even though Munich was a city, it had the feel of a large village, spread across the banks of the Isar River. He was ecstatic when FC Bayern first took him into the academy as a child, proud the have the chance to represent the place he loved, the team he loved.

Thirdly, that he'd one day settle down and find someone just right, raise a family, live the normal domestic life. Maybe it'd be after football, maybe not; maybe it'd be with a girl, maybe (just maybe) not; but love seemed like one of those inevitable, fateful things.

One thing Philipp wasn't sure about - was never sure about - was himself.

He looked in the mirror and did not like what he saw. Scrawny, giant eyebrows, distracting flush at the slightest provocation - none of it was attractive to him. Shopping for clothes was boring; no exciting textures, no interesting shapes, just the same old shirts and slacks and jeans as far as the eye could see. When everyone around him changed during puberty, the differences became even more striking - his voice barely broke, his frame barely grew, and the other young men around him were huge and imposing and deep-voiced. It helped his football in a strange way - he could throw himself into becoming faster and sharper than everyone else on the pitch, which became its own unique asset - but he couldn't help but feel unhappy during lineups, being forced to look up at everyone else. It made him ashamed of his body - he started dressing in larger clothes than he really needed, just to hide his shape, to hide his shame.

It seemed women had it better - they became curvaceous and elegant, and even the sportiest of them got to dabble into what seemed to be a secret world, one filled with beautiful things.

He wanted to enter their world, even for just a little bit of time, to see what it was really like. To see what it was like to be beautiful, to be elegant, to be feminine.

Eventually he would get that chance - and it'd take him to places he'd never expect.

* * *

Two: Andreas

If there was something that was both good and bad about Andi, it's that he was always so _willing_.

He was okay with starting, and he was okay with being benched. He was okay with rotating about various points of the midfield. He was okay when Philipp pulled to get closer and okay when Philipp pushed away. It wasn't that he didn't have an opinion, he was just highly flexible and eager to please, whether that be with Bayern management or just with Philipp.

So when Andreas proposed this crossdressing concept and offered to help pay for things, Philipp wasn't entirely surprised. It seemed right, Andreas trying to be helpful in his own way, brashly ignoring the weirdness of Philipp's desire to change.

**********

The big day arrives, and Philipp is anxious. That, and scared and maybe a little aroused, too.

The clothes go on slowly, one piece at a time, the sensations strange and uncomfortable but also a little erotic; nothing fits _quite_ right, but the textures are thrilling and delightful. The makeup feels strange, heavy in a way, wholly unnatural, and the brushes scratch a little bit against his skin.

She - no, he - looks in the mirror and isn't pleased. It doesn't make him feel like a woman, it makes him feel like a man trying too hard to be a woman. He can plainly see all the ways he doesn't pass muster - the shoulders, the thighs, the brows, the jawbone. Everything is obvious, everything is ridiculous, and this whole thing feels like a mistake. It's only worse when he speaks - his voice may be high for a man, but it's still male, and it makes the whole illusion, delicate as it is, fall apart.

But Andreas is behind him, with a strange look on his face - love and lust and protectiveness and kindness. It's a part of Andreas Philipp hasn't seen very much; generally, Andi is so willing to give and give and never really take, so willing to let Philipp take the lead. But not now. He is lusty and proud and dominant, for the first time in a very long time. It's clear this whole thing has some strange erotic appeal to Andreas, even if it doesn't go right by Philipp's standards. Between that and the smooth sensation of the fabric on his skin, he can't resist Andi's advances, can't resist the call of intimacy.

So when Andreas asks if he can do more, Philipp turns to kiss him, soft and delicate, not trusting his voice to speak. Philipp can feel Andreas' hands trembling as they caress his face, as they move him towards the bed. He knows he looks like a mess, splayed out and awkward underneath Andreas, but it seems like Andi doesn't mind.

Philipp lets Andreas take control, lets him touch and kiss and caress and lick and suck, lets the other boy do as he wishes. It feels good, giving in, letting go, coming undone. Yes, he is confused and scared and shell shocked at how quickly Andreas is moving, but between Andreas' possessiveness and the fulfillment of his own fantasies it's nothing short of electrifying.

As Andreas spoons up behind him, he frowns. He's not a girl, he makes an even worse girl than he does a boy and he doesn't know where that puts him. Andreas tried his hardest, but it just didn't pan out, not how he planned. And what's more, it changed Andreas, from the willing and simple person he knew to this strange and dominant lover.

Does Philipp really want that from Andreas? It's amazing, giving in to him, but it's also frighting in a way. Would they be playing with these kinks forever?

************

It's midsummer, well after the end of the season, and Philipp's not really sure why he acquiesces when Andi has the completely ridiculous idea of taking Pia out on a date. Hell, he's not really sure why he agrees to try to dress up again at all, after how it went last time. Still, Andreas is soothing and sweet, reassuring him they'll only go to a few places in Glockenbachviertel, places the vast majority of FCB would never go to and where the locals will not be horrified if he doesn't quite pass. Andi will do all the talking too, never let his voice give him away. And they'll get back long before Andi's parents come home from work, lots of time to scrub off the makeup and change and hide the clothes.

Getting dressed is different this time; Philipp lets Andreas touch, lets him help get everything on. They laugh together when the corset doesn't quite fit right, crack up when Andreas' hand slips while putting on eyeliner. It puts them both at ease. Andreas seems less jumpy, less likely to pounce at any given moment. Philipp feels relaxed for once, even thinking the makeup actually flatters him, hiding his blemishes and accentuating his features in a strange way.

They start by going to Max & Milian.

Andreas finds the owner in the back, rearranging books to make room for a couch in a small kitchen area.

"Oh, it's you! And ah - this must be -"

"Yes. Pia, this is--"

"Rolf. No, there is neither a Max nor a Milian in Max & Milian, it's just a name. It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Pia."

Rolf shakes Philipp's hand firmly, and he can't help but smile a little, nodding in greeting. It's clear this man knows the truth but is choosing to ignore it, to put everyone at ease. Rolf seems to cheerfully ignore his silence, then turns to Andreas.

"So what brings you here?"

Andreas holds out a few of those new Euro bills, still crisp. "I wanted to pay off my IOU."

"Your IOU?" Rolf blinks for a moment. "Oh, the book! Oh, that's not necessary, but if you insist." He takes the cash from Andreas and works his way to the desk on the other side of the book shop, ringing up the purchase.

The two of them strike up a small conversation - something about the little kitchen area Rolf was setting up, and about the local cafes - so Philipp wanders the shop a little. It's a cozy place, the books stacked everywhere; it feels like Rolf's flat instead of a store. It makes sense for Andreas to be drawn to it. Philipp doesn't really view himself as a gay person - just a person who happens to like people, who happens to have a few insecurities about his appearance. He considers buying a book just for the sake of it, but refrains.

Andreas gets two orders of döner on pita bread from a street cart and some apple strudel from a small bakery run by someone Philipp _thinks_ is a woman, but isn't sure; they then head to a beer garden, ordering the house brew. They spend some time in silence, nibbling on their food and drinking, taking in the sunshine and observing the people around them. Philipp wants to start a conversation but is afraid to use his voice; Andreas spends his time in silence anyway, smiling and holding his hand, seeming to relish the moment.

They end the day at the Gärtnerplatz, sitting on a bench together, looking at the flowers in full bloom and the people passing by, all lit beautifully as the sun sets. Andreas leans his head on Philipp's shoulder and holds his hand, using his thumb to trace small patterns in his palm. Philipp feels more relaxed and happy than he has in a while, even if the tuck is uncomfortable and the makeup feels heavy on his face; he decides not to resist when Andreas turns to kiss him. It's the first time they've done so in public, something that would usually make him panic; yet now all he feels is love and joy.

* * *

Three: Timo.

Stuttgart is nothing like Munich, and Timo is nothing like Andreas.

Timo tries to present himself as perpetually annoyed and obstinate and snarky. He's a keeper, after all, and keepers are meant to be grumpy to their defenders, in the great German tradition.

But secretly, under the annoyance, he too is gentle and kind. He sympathizes with Philipp's homesickness, as he isn't from Stuttgart either; when they're assigned to room together during Philipp's first away game, they stay up, trading stories of home. Philipp even finds his strange accent endearing.

So when Philipp finally moves out of his temporary lodgings in Stuttgart's academy into his own small apartment, he offers to let Timo help him move, including a weekend trip to Munich to pick up some things from his family.

It's a pleasant enough trip, listening to Timo's rather eclectic selection of CDs as they coast down the autobahn, swapping stories, gossiping about teammates. And when Timo's hand brushes over his and their eyes meet, Philipp understands the intention - and finds himself intrigued by it.

They enter Philipp's room and start packing everything they see. Timo scoffs at the Bayern posters on the wall, at which Philipp just laughs. After getting what they could from the room itself - boxes of linens, trophies from his childhood, books, and old video games, all stacked neatly in one corner of the room - they move towards the small walk-in closet.

Most of the clothes are pretty ordinary - old jerseys, random shirts and sweaters, a pile of jeans that all look alike. Further in the back are things with sentimental value, and again here is Timo snickering, this time at the custom fitted handmade lederhosen. But behind that --

"Philipp, are you sure these are yours?"

It's just one hangar, designed to fits three pairs of dress pants by using three rows of clips. But instead of pants, it's skirts - the black and tan one from Andreas, and two more; one pink in a paisley design, one hunter green with pleats.

Philipp snatches the hangar from Timo, blushing deeply. "None of your business." He grabs another box and puts them in there, then squeezes behind Timo to grab some more things, attempting to do so before Timo notices - a stack of old shoeboxes, each labeled "Pia's things".

 

 

Timo never mentions it again, even after they start dating. It seems he is perfectly content with never knowing Pia, even if by now he's guessed her existence. But that Christmas, Timo gives two presents - a lovely bottle of wine from his favorite vineyard back home and a set of tapes to learn voice acting. The bottle is labeled to Philipp, and the tapes to Pia.

* * *

Four: Claudia

Philipp has never met a woman quite like Claudia.

She is the strongest and smartest woman he has ever known. She has her own ambitions and her own dreams. She seems completely unfazed by her sudden fame when she's first seen at a Bayern party with Philipp, unmoved to change her personality or her sense of style. She knows a surprising amount about football for never playing much even as a child; when she brings her friends to games she talks their ears off, not just about Philipp, but also about strategy and tactics. She works hard every day, proving to herself and the world that she is more than Philipp Lahm's girlfriend, earning her own pay. She insists on paying when they go out to eat, or at least fighting for the check.

In the bedroom, she continues to show her tenacity and her strength; Philipp never figured he'd be quite so submissive in the bedroom, but it's honestly sort of a relief, not worrying about things for once and letting her take charge. When she orders, he can follow, no questions, no concerns. Sometimes it's innocent, simply cooking dinner and vacuuming around the house when she's had a stressful day at work. Other times, well, he's tied to the bedposts with an old scarf, begging for release. Either way, he sees the look in her eyes, loving and proud, and he couldn't imagine a life happier with anyone else.

 

 

They've just moved in together a few weeks ago. She's out at work while he has the day off; he spent the morning reviewing notes on an upcoming Champion's League opponent and just generally taking care of things. It seems she's working overtime, though, so the time he had blocked out to making dinner and watching a movie together has been postponed.

Out of pure curiosity, he finds himself looking into her part of the closet.

He hasn't dressed up in a while now; it's not so much fear as lack of engagement and interest. Bayern and the national team has kept him busy. Besides, he's not really sure how he'd bring it up to Claudia. Sure, she's an intensely sexual person, curious and kinky and not averse to being adventurous; but he knows not everyone finds the concept of gender play attractive.

Still, he has nothing but time, and she is his size.

He sees a dress she wore to a friend's wedding - a swirling wrap dress in a jewel-like sapphire blue. It's sequined, not throughout, just some faint abstract patterns to add contrast.

He strips down to his underwear then starts putting the dress on. It won't look right - especially now, he's letting his sideburns grow out and he's not even bothering to tuck - but it barely matters. The dress is beautiful and he's feeling the pull in the pit of his stomach - excitement at the danger, excitement at the prospect of wearing something so _nice_.

He hears the door unlocking and freezes in panic - not long, but just long enough that by the time he realizes he should change out of her clothes, she's already made it to the bedroom.

"...Oh!"

"H-hi. You're in earlier than I expected," he says with a flush, the fabric hanging off of his waist.

He changes as fast as he can back into his own clothes, then rushes to make dinner.

As they sit down before their plates of roast vegetables and poached fish, Philipp looks shyly at Claudia. "I've always sort of been interested in this sort of thing," he says softly. "Escaping being male, if only for a while. Getting a peek into what it's like to be female."

"Mm?" She looks intrigued. No judgement, no commentary, just pure curiosity. "Go on."

"I've only fully dressed up a handful of times," he continues, pushing a slice of carrot around on his plate. "Two or three times with Andi, back when we were in A-Juniors." _Back when we were dating,_ it goes unsaid. "A few times alone. My family doesn't know, and no one else at Bayern does either," _but Timo does_.

"What was it like?"

"It was weird. I'm not sure I actually make that great of a girl, and reactions to it have been, well, surprising to say the least." His mind flashes back to Andreas essentially pouncing on him the first time. "But it's also fun, in a way. It's exciting to look beautiful and change into someone different from my usual self. It's also kind of, uh..."

"Erotic?" she supplies. He nods, flushing in shame.

She twirls a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, deep in thought. They eat the rest of the meal in silence.

 

 

Later that night, she puts makeup on him, from her own collection - higher quality stuff than Andi ever used. She has him wear a choker of delicate pearls, his old corset and forms, and a simple black shift dress. They spend the rest of the night as they originally planned, watching old movies and relaxing, but her requests go to Pia, not Philipp.

 

 

Claudia is a wonderful person. She is excellent at being the sweet girlfriend of a footballer named Philipp Lahm, as well as being his domme behind closed doors. She is even better at being a girlfriend and an enabler for a young woman named Pia. She treats her regularly to gifts - brand new breast forms that move with her body, custom fitted hip pads to give her more confidence in her shape, beautiful dresses, elegant lingerie. They go out together regularly, as friends and as lovers, and Pia couldn't be happier.

Philipp is pleased too, especially as he thinks that no one else will ever know his secret. Claudia seems excellent at discretion.

He's wrong, of course.  


* * *

Five: Bastian

It's a neat little idea, going to the circus as a club, joking around with various acts and tricks. Besides, how else could you get away with laughing when Jürgen Klinsmann cracks the whip? The kids who have come seem dazzled, both by the circus acts and the footballers, and their smiles are a reward in itself.

A group of them are on stage now, pretending to be a band. Franck is miming playing drums and having a grand old time; Jose is rocking out on air guitar. Sarah is dragged on stage and is asked to play - clarinet? saxophone? Philipp's not sure.

And then there is Bastian.

The circus performers have stuck a wig onto Bastian - it looks like one of the cheap Carnival wigs, plastic and not fitting quite right. Still, the blonde color is oddly fitting, and he seems happy enough, playing along and pretending to sing. The audience is loving the way their miming is translating to real music, the performers look pleased. Even Sarah seems happy, reaching over to kiss his cheek.

Philipp is watching, squirming a little in his seat, biting his lip. Claudia is to his left and Andreas is to his right, and they look at each other, then at the nervous man between them, who seems to pay them no mind.

 

 

The show ends and the team slowly works its way out the stage door.

"So that was pretty wild, huh, Philipp?" Bastian asks, with a chuckle.

"Yeah, pretty crazy," Philipp replies, trying not to make eye contact. "You know, that wig was nice, but--" He gulps suddenly, as if his brain just realized what he was saying.

Bastian blinks at Philipp. "But what?"

"N-nothing, nothing at all!" Philipp says frantically, grateful they've made their way to the exit so he can dodge out without clarifying.

 

 

Pia and Claudia are sitting together on the banks of the Isar with a box of pastries and a few bottles of beer. It's a beautiful day for December, bright and sunny and not very windy. It's still cold enough that they're fully bundled up though, flakes of puff pastry finding its way on to gloves and jacket folds.

"And would you just believe, the client just--" Claudia cuts off her story, turning her head to where Pia is staring.

It's Bastian, who apparently considers riding a bicycle around the city a completely normal hobby for his day off, even in mid-December. Pia turns away, flushed, and takes a sip of beer, but it's already too late - he's recognized Claudia, and is pedaling towards them.

Claudia reaches to quickly squeeze Pia's hand, a small comfort. Bastian's gotten off the bicycle now and is walking towards them.

"Oh, hi, Claudia! And, ah, hello." He gestures to Pia.

Claudia stands up, helping Pia get up as well. "Oh, yes, Bastian, this is my friend Pia. Pia, I'm sure you've seen Bastian Schweinsteger before."

Pia flushes, resisting the urge to elbow Claudia in the ribs. "It's nice to meet you! Ah, wow, I mean, I knew Claudia and Philipp were dating, but I wasn't expecting--" It's a terrible lie and Pia is a terrible liar, but it seems to sate Bastian enough, and he shakes her hand firmly.

Claudia and Bastian exchange small talk, about the circus yesterday and the next Bayern game coming up. Pia spends the whole time nervously fidgeting, adjusting the diamond bracelet she's borrowed from Claudia. Before he leaves, Bastian invites Pia to the next home game and she flusters, making some small excuse of needing to check her schedule.

 

 

Later that night, Philipp checks his phone, and notices a new text message. It's from Bastian.

"Sarah tried to stuff me into a dress when we got home from the circus. Not my thing, but thanks for the suggestion."

A second message pops in at that moment.

"PS: Pia is a way hotter girl than I could ever be. I don't think anyone else would be able to tell you're the same person."

It's strange, this combination of flattery and honesty. He's already extremely embarrassed to have even met another Bayern player as Pia; he hadn't realized that Bastian had read her so well. But here he was, flattering her, and admitting that this gender play idea wasn't really his thing.

 

 

Philipp and Pia could have gotten a new start, a new city, a way to avoid everyone he already knows - Manchester United has put up an offer, and so has Barcelona. But he refuses, even with the prestige of the other clubs, even with the risks of being Pia so close to home - because at the end of the day, Munich is home, for them both.

And when he becomes captain, when he marries Claudia in Aying, when he wins with Bayern - he figures it's all worked itself out.  


* * *

Six: FC Bayern München

When Philipp retires, he decides to travel, get out of Munich for a while.

He travels throughout Europe, spends time in cities he'd only slept and played football in, takes in local culture as best he can. He travels throughout Africa, at each of the cities the foundation he created has built sports clinics. He even travels throughout the United States, observes a culture extremely unlike his own. Sometimes he'd get recognized, sometimes he wouldn't; he even occasionally goes out as Pia, just to explore life as a woman. Not often, not enough to say he's "transitioning" in any real way, but still, he experiences the world as fully as he can, with her help.

When he finally returns to Munich, it was late May. Bayern's season is over, but something else catches his eye as his taxi takes him home - an ad for the year's Christopher Street Day parade, coming in just a few weeks.

 

 

Queerpass Bayern has been very kind to Pia; when she calls, asking if she could join without giving her last name, they gave her no trouble and didn't even ask why. She pays the membership fee in cash at one of their meetings (really a rowdy meetup at a beer garden), introduces herself simply and calmly as a Munich native and a passionate Bayern fan. When they ask when she became a Bayern fan, she thinks for a moment before naming a day near the middle of the 2001-2002 season. They nod and hum their approval - a good season, a winning season for the club. A few mention also being very young that year, watching their idols play; others mention not quite being able to appreciate football at that point, but loving the play from half a decade or a decade later.

It's sobering - they talk animatedly about those years, World Cup 2006, the great Oliver Kahn's retirement game, Euros in 2008, the Champion's League final in 2010. They're the games Philipp played in, the games he experienced from the pitch, not the stands. Pia knows she can't out herself, but she can't help slipping in a remark out of pure curiosity.

"So what did you think of Philipp Lahm?"

Her question hangs in the air for a minute, then they go on. "Oh, he was great! Lightning quick, so clever too. And no one ever knew how to contain him!" "His goal in the World Cup was beautiful. Just marvelous! I still can't believe he did it with a cast on! And I was there in person for it, too!" "I was so proud when he became captain. A Munich local! One of us!" "I was happy when he turned down that offer from Barcelona. You know a boy appreciates a city when he can turn them down, especially back then!" "I felt so bad when he didn't defend well against Torres in the Euro '08 final. You could tell it bothered him deeply to not be able to stop him."

She releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

The president interjects. "Hey, remember his article in FRONT?"

A few of the older ones murmur assent, but a young one frowns. "He was in FRONT? The gay magazine?"

"Yeah, years and years ago. He was still a player then, a young one too. It was before he even thought of being captain. He had done some work for World AIDS Day, so they asked him to be the cover boy and did an interview. He was really adamant about being straight and wanting a family, but he also said he would treat a gay teammate totally normally."

Pia can't help herself; she chuckles. "Didn't he also dodge whether or not he'd ever fancied a boy, though?"

Everyone smirks around the table; they recalled the persistent "is he gay or isn't he" questions in the tabloids as well, it seems. "Heh, I think you might be right, Pia," the president says with a smile.

Another elder fan butts in. "Actually, I remember that, my partner at the time was a friend of the photographer! Oh man. The photographer wasn't really much of a sports fan, but he spent two weeks afterwards swooning over Philipp. The photos were something else too - super closeups and really active stuff, things with high jumps and push ups. He did some other shoots for them too..."

And from there the conversation drifts to gay magazines and media, things Pia admits she  
knows less about. The president looks thoughtfully at her, but says nothing. Somewhere in the middle of all the beer and conversation they do manage to arrange a meeting place and time for the Christopher Street Day parade.

 

 

She touches up her makeup and looks down at her clothes. It feels weird, really - she's been en femme more times than she could name now, but this is the first time she'd combined it with her football gear. It's strange, the sight of breasts under an old Bayern jersey, paired with dark wash jeans and simple sneakers. She doesn't care for mixing masculine and feminine attire, but this is really the only thing she could wear, given the circumstances. She's been careful to make sure it was an unnamed one - the last thing Philipp needs is her to give him away.

 _And now is the moment of truth,_ she thinks as she walks out the door.

Pia is alone as she rides the train to Glockenbachviertel. Claudia bowed out when she announced her plan; her wife decided that her being seen in a Bayern context might be enough for people to put two and two together, and Pia was inclined to agree. She'll wear her wedding ring anyway, of course.

The president of Queerpass Bayern greets her as well as some fellow members at the train station, and whisks them towards their spot in the parade line. They have no float, but there are many banners - the Queerpass Bayern logo, "Against Homophobia", and the like. The main banner is huge and reads simply "Auch Mia san Mia" along with the Queerpass Bayern website.

 _We, too, are who we are._ It's such a simple thing - that these people, these new friends she's made, are people. They are Bavarians, Munich locals, and most importantly Bayern fans; they are part of the supporter landscape as much as anyone else who planted themselves in the Südkurve, week after week, year after year. They may have different views on love and identity, but it changes nothing.

She takes up one side of the "Auch Mia san Mia" banner and begins walking in the summertime sunshine. The sun is warm on her face and catches the highlights in her hair; it reflects off the shimmer in her nail polish and her eye shadow; it alights on the embroidery on the crest on her chest. FC Bayern München is the club she has been with all her life, the one she loves, the one she has defended in one form or another for as long as she's been able to kick a ball. Here she is, surrounded by others who understand her adoration and her identity in equal measure.

She, too, is who she is - part of a man but also herself. Philipp is a world class defender, a proud Bavarian, a happy husband, a philanthropist of the highest degree; he is also Pia.

 

 

And in this moment, she truly - finally - feels beautiful, as beautiful as the game and the city and life itself.


End file.
